Vignette
by LadieLazarus
Summary: A moment in the life of Jaina Solo and Jagged Fel. Jaina/Jag. Spoilers up to and including Betrayal.


Title: Vignette

Fandom: Star Wars

Pairing: Jaina/Jag

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Brief view into Jaina and Jag's everyday life.

Spoilers: Up to and including _Abyss_

"What are you doing here?" Jagged Fel paused in the door to his bedroom.

"Sending messages." His fiancee, Jaina Solo, was sitting in the middle of his bed, typing on a data-pad. She was wearing the same oversized Rebel Alliance t-shirt that she always slept in, and that, combined with her slightly disheveled hair, indicated that she'd clearly spent the night there.

"Who to?"

"I'm sending one to Mom and Dad, one to Ben." She shrugged. "Nothing serious."

"You slept here?"

"Yeah. My apartment felt really empty last night for some reason. Besides, you told me I could." Jaina closed the data-pad and pushed it away from her. She laid down on her back across the bed, her head closest to where he was currently standing at his closet.

"I know, and I meant it."

She snorted.

"Of course you did. You never say anything you don't mean, Fel."

"I'm trying to figure out if that's a bad thing I've just been accused of."

"Not really, I guess."

Jag started pulling clean uniform parts out of his closet and laying them on the bed next to Jaina. She rolled over onto her stomach, picking at the rank insignia on his shirt absently.

"That's reassuring." He smiled at her briefly, before scrubbing a hand over his tired face. "If I had known that you were here, I might have made an effort to come home last night."

"And here I thought you were just with your other girlfriend. If you really haven't been to bed yet, one _again,_ I'm really going to have to hit you."

"I think your priorities are slightly out of whack, love." Jag stripped off his shirt and stretched. Force, but he was tired.

"That's because I know that there's no way you could possibly have the energy for another girlfriend. You can barely keep up with me." She snorted again, sitting upright on the bed.

"That's the truth." Jag nodded. "I'm going to take a sanisteam. Will you be here when I get done?"

"Probably not." Jaina shook her head, running a hand through her brown hair. "I have to head over to the temple at some point today and speak to Cilghal. And then, I'm having lunch with my Dad."

"Ah." Jag knew that his ground with Han Solo was tenuous at best. Even if he could have, which he couldn't, he wouldn't have imposed on that. "Well, can I see you for dinner?"

"Of course you can." Jaina looked surprised. "I didn't think you'd be around."

Jag hated that her perceptions were based on precedent. He allowed himself a rare moment of regret that his duty was so much of an imposition on his life with her.

"I can be. I worked all night on these stupid Trade Route agreements. The least that they can do is to let me go to dinner."

"That sounds great." Jaina smiled. "Can we go somewhere completely unsuitable and get drunk on cheap alcohol?"

"You can get drunk. I have to maintain my image." Jag smirked.

"What about my image?"

"That _is _your image, love." Jag snickered. Jaina threw a pillow at him. It nailed him in the head. She was a good shot.

"Fair enough." She shrugged. "Oh! That reminds me, I'm going out tomorrow night."

"Oh? Who with?" Jag had stripped down to his shorts, shaking his head at Jaina's wolf-whistle.

"Hey, I'm allowed to ogle. Fiancee's privilege." Jaina grinned. "I'm going out with Mirta Gev."

"She's back on planet?"

"No, I thought I'd just run off planet, go meet her for a drink, and then come back." Jaina shrugged, smiling in her lop-sided, Corellian way. "She's doing some kind of job here for the next few days. I haven't seen her in forever."

"It has been a while." Jag sighed, adding the next bit as almost an afterthought. "Please don't get arrested."

"Hey, it's _me_."

"Which is what you always say before I get the 0300 hours phone call to come and bail you out."

"You've never had to bail me out, Jag." Jaina shook her head. "You and I both know that you only get arrested if you get caught."

"Please don't." Jag sat down next to her on the bed, resting his elbows on his knees and pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "I have enough to deal with right now without having to clean up the media circus, too."

Jaina rolled her eyes.

"Fine, your most Imperial Potlicalness." She raised her right hand as though taking an oath. "I, Jaina Solo, vow to try my best not to get too crazy with my Mando friend."

"I thought there was no try." Jag eyed her critically.

"Well," Jaina shrugged, "you either get 'I'll try' or 'I promise nothing'."

"I'll take try then." Jag nodded thoughtfully. He leaned over to kiss her before breaking it off with a regretful sigh. "I really need a sanisteam. Any chance I can convince you to join me?"

"Well..." Jaina pretended to weigh her options, but Jag knew that he had her. If she'd have had somewhere to be, she'd have gone already. "I didn't tell Cilghal what time I'd be by, and I'm not supposed to meet my Dad until about 1400."

"I have an hour and a half before my next meeting." Jag smiled. It was rare, these days, for a real full-fledged smile to grace his face, but it was usually Jaina who caused it.

"Well then, you're on flyboy." Jaina stood, pulling the t-shirt over her head and heading towards the 'fresher.


End file.
